


A Bad Idea That Says You Should Shut Your Mouth

by ohmcgee



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Crack, Damian Wayne has really good genetics, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, complete nonsense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-03-13 16:38:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3388736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmcgee/pseuds/ohmcgee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a 23 word drabble for the prompt "adult!Damian/Dick first kiss" that somehow grew into this monster crack fic? Idk. Like really, I don't even know what's going on in this thing. Apparently Dick was gone for five years? Maybe he was off being a spy? MAYBE HE WAS BEING A LAKER GIRL. WHO KNOWS. But now he's back and he won't shut UP, so Damian has to get resourceful.  Brief cameos by Bruce, Alfred, Cass, and the lovely Jason Todd.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Bad Idea That Says You Should Shut Your Mouth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DoreyG](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoreyG/gifts).



> Damian is 18/19ish.

“I just can’t believe how big you’ve gotten. I mean. _Look_ at you,” Dick says, gesturing wildly with his hands. Damian snorts.

“You were gone five years, Grayson. Did you expect me to remain suspended in my childhood until you deemed it safe to return?”

Dick blinks. Five years and he still never learned to talk like a regular kid. Oh well, he guesses he wouldn’t be Damian if he had. “Yes,” he says. “You were supposed to stay the shrimpy little brat always under my feet and making me want to pull my hair out forever.” 

“How dare you,” Damian seethes. “ _Shrimpy_. Take that back instantly.”

Dick laughs, the way he always laughs, head tilted back, mouth wide open, lighting up his whole body. It always perplexed Damian how he always looked younger after laughing like that, the lines on his face smoothed out, all the tension wrung out of him, like the simple act of it gave him life. There are still so many things about Dick Grayson he doesn’t understand. Like why he keeps _staring_ at him, currently.

“Quit gawking, Richard,” he says. “I know you’re familiar with the aging process. You watched Todd grow up, Drake. Brown. Stop staring at me like I’m some kind of freak.”

Dick frowns. “Sorry. Sorry. It’s just. I mean. Good genetics,” he mumbles, then flips over the banisters and lands in front of Damian. “Race you to the kitchen?”

“Tt,” Damian clicks his tongue, a familiarity that makes Dick smile even larger than it already was. “At least one of us has grown up.”

 

***

 

“Master Damian,” Alfred whispers in the dark room. “May I ask why you are sitting in a dark room all by yourself? Do you need anything? A candle, perhaps? Or a psychologist?”

“Very funny, Pennyworth,” Damian mutters. “If you must know, I am hiding from Grayson.”

“Master Dick? I thought you had been overjoyed at his return, sir.”

“I was,” Damian snorts. “Until I remembered how much he _talks._ ”

“Ah yes,” Alfred smiles. “Master Dick has always been one to-”

“About everything. _All the time._ ”

“If I may, sir, I believe it is just that he’s rather excited to be home.”

“It’s just, it’s been so quiet with only Father and I for so long. Father doesn’t…”

“He is a man of few, carefully selected words.”

“And Grayson -- _Grayson_. He just chatters on endlessly about anything and everything, as if words have no meaning to him at all. It’s like he gets nervous if two seconds go by that isn’t filled with inane conversation and he will blurt out literally anything to fill the space. _Anything._ Yesterday I learned more about the mating habits of marsupials than I ever wanted to know.” Damian pulls at his hair. “I’m losing it, Alfred.”

Alfred chuckles. “You will get used to Master Dick again, young sir. I remember when your father first took young Richard in --”

“No,” Damian whines, covering his hands with his ears, rocking back and forth. “Not you too.”

 

***

 

“I’ve been looking for you,” Dick pops out of nowhere, nearly giving Damian a heart attack. He was trained by _assassins_ , by _Batman_ , he’s not supposed to get startled by a ridiculous man with ridiculous hair who won’t _shut up_. “I forgot how huge this place was. I swear I’ve been looking for you for hours, where did you go? You know I actually got lost on the second floor. I guess it’s been too long. Did Alfred redecorate? I don’t remember there being an entire yoga studio upstairs.”

Damian pinches the bridge of his nose as a migraine starts rolling in. 

“Anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to go catch a movie. Or we could just stay in and watch a movie since I also found the theater room downstairs. What’d you have to do to talk the old bat into that? Man, what I would’ve done for a room like that when I was a kid living here. I bet we could talk Alfred into making up some--”

Something -- probably something important -- snaps in Damian’s brain. He can’t take it anymore. He’s glad Grayson is back, he _is._ But this constant, never-ending useless prattle is driving him mad. He can’t _think_ clearly, which maybe explains what he does next, grabbing Dick by his collar and covering his mouth with his own. 

It’s wet, and warm, and his mouth is slick against Damian’s when Dick stops making sounds of protests and decides to kiss back, which makes Damian immediately release his hold on him and back away, eyes blown wide and a little too breathless for something that had only been meant to spare his remaining sanity.

“Uh,” Dick says, bring his hand up to touch his mouth. “You kissed me.”

Damian’s fists clench and unclench by his sides. “You kissed _me._ ” He says, fuming. “ _I_ was merely attempting a last resort at _shutting you up._ ”

He does have to admit, as Grayson stands there, touching his mouth like he can’t figure out what just happened, looking puzzled but _blissfully_ silent, that it wasn’t the worst idea he ever had. 

 

***

 

Kissing, as it turns out, is actually the most effective method when Damian is desperate for peace and quiet, but still desires Grayson’s company. The last sound he hears is Grayson’s little _mmph_ of surprise whenever he grabs him and crushes their mouths together. He does find, though, that he’s not entirely silent even then, that Grayson just has to make little noises in the back of his throat, or soft humming sounds when Damian does certain things with his tongue. It’s not complete peace and quiet, but it’s close enough. And he can keep him that way for a remarkable fifteen, twenty minutes sometimes, until his mouth becomes numb and Grayson starts getting fidgety and his noises become more frequent and pronounced. He assumes he’s having some sort of withdrawal fit from not being able to speak for so long and let’s him go, staring at his red, swollen mouth before stalking off to find something else to do before Grayson starts yammering at him again.

 

***

 

"Alfred tells me Dick's been talking your head off, " Bruce smirks over his morning cup of coffee as Damian does pull-ups on the bar he had installed in the kitchen doorway despite Alfred's protestations. "You know he won't leave you alone until you actually talk back to him. That's all he wants." 

Damian hops down and grabs a waffle with his hands. "Thank you for the unsolicited advice father, but I found my own way." 

 

***

 

"Wait," Dick says one day in the batcave, Damian straddling him in the command chair, one hand clutched in Dick's hair, the other under his shirt. "Are you doing this because you like me or are you only doing it to shut me up?" 

" _Grayson_ ," Damian says with such vehemence that it sounds like a curse. “You talk too much."

"That doesn't really answer my question, " Dick says, but Damian’s already pressed his mouth against his again, so all that comes out is random vowel sounds, and when he yanks Dick’s head to the side and scrapes his teeth over his throat, Dick can’t remember what his question was anyway.

 

***

 

After a month of Damian’s successful and surprisingly enjoyable method of keeping Grayson quiet, something goes wrong. Grayson is _talking._ Damian’s brow furrow and it actually takes him a moment to realize that the _reason_ he’s talking is because Damian’s mouth isn’t on his, it’s on his collarbone. The troubling part is, Damian doesn’t want to take his mouth away from Grayson’s collarbone. He’s in the middle of sucking a very large, very nasty looking bruise into his skin to match the one on the other side. If nothing else, he is a completist. 

Still, Grayson is rambling about how hot he is, about how nice his mouth is, about how much he wants him, and it’s...distracting. So Damian improvises, reaches up and sticks a few fingers in his mouth. Grayson makes that same, startled sound at first, but then.

Then he’s sucking Damian’s fingers into his mouth, laving at them with his tongue, between his fingers, pushing his tongue against the blunt tips of his nails, sloppy and wet and --

A surpised, choked off moan slips out of Damian’s mouth. 

Dick grins.

 

***

 

Alfred finally manages to get the entire family under one roof for dinner one night to welcome Dick back and of course, Dick’s so excited to see everyone that he rambles on all night, barely pausing to shove food in his mouth and swallow before continuing to chatter on. He talks about where he’s been, what he’s seen, asks them all about their lives, what they’ve been up to, have they seen the new Captain America movie, did they _know_ about the theater room? Until Cass reaches over and shoves a giant turkey leg in his mouth, silencing him for at least thirty seconds. Thirty seconds of _heaven._ Damian knew there was a reason he always liked her best.

Beside him, Jason says, “Huh. If I knew putting things in Dick’s mouth would’ve gotten him to shut up I would’ve done it years ago.”

Damian nearly chokes to death.

 

***

 

They’re making out on Damian’s bed -- making out is what Grayson calls it, Damian prefers to refer to it as “silence with benefits” -- when Damian threads his fingers through Dick’s hair and pulls back.

“Todd gave me an idea.”

Dick raises his eyebrow. “You. Uh. Talk to Jason about us? That’s...okay.”

Damian rolls his eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. It was just something he said. About --” he does _not_ blush, it’s just very warm in his bedroom. He’ll yell at Pennyworth for setting the thermostat too high later. “Putting things in your mouth.”

Grayson, however, definitely blushes. His cheeks go an almost comical shade of pink, like rouge on a lady, and damn it if it doesn’t make him look even more appealing. Damian brings his hand to Dick’s face, traces the curve of his jaw with his thumb, then the outline of his mouth, tugging at his plush bottom lip until his mouth parts, then closes around Damian’s thumb. 

Damian’s eyelids flutter closed. “I want…”

Dick lets his thumb out of his mouth with a soft, wet, pop. “Say it.”

Damian opens his eyes and glares at him. “You know exactly what I want, Grayson.”

Dick grins. “Maybe. But you still have to say it.”

“You’re infuriating.”

Dick sucks his thumb back into his mouth, swirls his tongue around the base where it meets his hand, watches Damian’s eyes roll into the back of his head. 

“Y-your mouth,” Damian stammers, redness blotching across his cheeks. “Put it on me.”

“Where?” Dick’s eyes glitter.

“You _know_ where.”

Dick leans in, reaches between them and cups Damian through his jeans, whispers against his ear, “Say it.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Damian gasps, hips jerking reflexively at Dick’s touch. “My dick,” he breathes out shakily. “Just. _Please,_ Grayson.”

“God,” Dick murmurs, hurriedly peeling off Damian’s shirt, kissing and mouthing his way down his tan, ripped torso, getting distracted running his tongue across the smooth, hard lines of his abs until Damian makes an impatient noise, reminding him of what he’s supposed to be doing.

“Right, sorry,” he says, pausing to suck a little bruise into Damian’s hipbone as he flicks open his button and unzips his jeans. “It’s just. You’re stupidly hot, you know that?”

“Yes,” Damian says. “You’ve mentioned it quite a lot lately.”

“Well,” Dick says distractedly as he tugs Damian’s jeans, then his boxers off. “I haven’t exactly seen this much of you until now. I’m a little awe struck.”

Damian rolls his eyes. “Save the pleasantries and get your mouth on me.”

“Such the charmer,” Dick grins, but then he’s kneeling between Damian’s legs, running his hands up his gorgeous, toned thighs, settling one on his hip and wrapping the other around Damian. Damian hisses at the contact and arches off the bed a little. 

“Your _mouth_ , Grayson, are you deaf?”

“Geeze, you’d think someone who can meditate for two hours would have a little more patience.”

“Need I remind you I am not naked, aroused, and with your mouth inches away from my dick when I meditate.” 

Dick grins. “Good point.” Then he flicks his tongue across the tip of Damian’s dick and has to hold him down when Damian nearly comes off the bed. “Easy.” 

He decides he’s tortured the poor boy enough and wraps his mouth around him, lips tight around his shaft, strokes the inside of Damian’s thigh as he swirls his tongue around the head of his dick, teasing the slit with the tip of his tongue, moaning around Damian when the salty taste of precome splashes on his tongue. He settles into a good rhythm, bobbing his head up and down on Damian’s dick until Damian is a writhing, thrashing mess, clenching the sheets in his fist so tightly Dick can hear the threads ripping, muttering curses in languages Dick can’t even place, every now and then gasping out his name when Dick does a particularly evil thing with his tongue. 

“Grayson,” he pants when Dick reaches between his thighs to squeeze his balls, and drags his tongue all the way up the underside of his cock. “ _Fuck._ ”

“Language, Damian,” Dick grins and swallows him back down.

“”F-fuck,” Damian groans, back arching off the bed, fisting his hands in Dick’s hair, guiding his motions. “Like that. God, yes. _Yes._ Just like that. T-take it.”

Dick moans around him again, the vibrations causing Damian to buck his hips, making his cock ram the back of Dick’s throat.

Dick pulls off abruptly, coughing and gasping for air, and Damian is worried for a moment that he’s done something wrong, that he’s hurt him, or worse, that Dick won’t put his mouth back on him, but then he turns his eyes on Damian and they are so blown they are nearly entirely black, his mouth fat and shiny and red from being stretched around him. Damian never really knew what thoroughly debauched could look like until now. He wants to keep Grayson this way forever.

He reaches down and hauls Dick up to him, tastes himself on Dick’s lips when he kisses him, and he never expected that to be such a turn on either, but he hadn’t expected to like a lot of the things he’s done lately as much as he does now. 

“This is painful,” he says when Dick rolls his hips against him, still unfortunately wearing his jeans. “Take them off.”

“Are you sure?”

Damian shoots him a terrifying glare. “Take them off _now_.”

“I’d forgotten how bossy you could be,” Dick grins as he wriggles out of his own jeans and tugs his shirt off over his head until he’s as naked as Damian, presses against him and breathes heavily into the crook of Damian’s neck as Damian’s hand slides down his back, presses him closer. 

“I thought you only wanted to shut me up,” Dick murmurs into the side of Damian’s neck as Damian reaches between them, wraps a huge hand around both of them.

“My priorities seem to have changed,” he gasps at the feel of their cocks sliding together. “Now I would like to see how loud you can get.”

“Oh _god,_ ” Dick moans, thrusting into Damian’s fist. 

Damian smirks, twists his wrist just _so_ , drawing a deep, low moan out of Dick. “Come on, Grayson. I know you can do better than that.”

 

***

 

Damian doesn’t even startle when Dick jumps down from wherever he had been hanging this time. 

“So I got lost in the manor again.” He says, landing with a thud next to Damian. “I was looking for the room with all the books--”

“The library.”

“Right, but apparently I took a wrong turn at Albuquerque or something--”

“I have no idea what language you’re speaking right now.”

“And did you know the basement’s been turned into some kind of giant soundproof room? With a bed and everything. I wonder what _that’s_ for.”

Damian smirks, grabs Dick’s hand and laces their fingers together. “Research.”


End file.
